


Shackled

by Lif61 (UltimateFandomTrash)



Series: Whumptober 2019 [9]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean isn't exactly in this, M/M, POV Castiel, Whumptober 2019, but there are prayers, shackled, so Destiel - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2020-11-28 12:48:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20966819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UltimateFandomTrash/pseuds/Lif61
Summary: Castiel goes out on a hunt alone, leaving him stranded on a mountain.





	Shackled

**Author's Note:**

> Written for day 9 of Whumptober 2019.  
Prompt: shackled

Metal slid and clanked against stone as Castiel raised his arm and used a ledge to pull himself to his feet. He’d been tracking a rogue angel, one who apparently had a twisted appreciation of mythological plights, because Castiel was now shackled to the cliff face on the side of a mountain. He wasn’t sure he’d read a mythology with this type of punishment, but the mountain, the lightning striking through the air, the rain beating against him, it spoke of something ancient, of old times.

His wrists were secured in heavy metal cuffs carved with Enochian and wardings, and the chains ran into a metal loop stuck through the rock, before being secured farther out. It allowed him some motion, enough to stand up and scream at his predicament, to sprawl his back out against the rock and beg his brethren for help.

Oh, if only he’d listened to Dean, to Sam. They’d been telling him to not do this alone, to wait for one of them to catch up to him. But he’d gone in on his own, and now nature thrashed upon him as his restraints glowed with power.

The rogue angel had left, his location unknown to Castiel, and soon he didn’t care.

The angels weren’t responding to him, wanted nothing to do with him, and had eventually cut him off from angel radio. Now all he could hear were his own frantic, pleading thoughts, and Sam and Dean’s prayers.

Every once in awhile his eyes would roll back in his head and he’d collapse when the power of Dean’s prayers hit him, rendering him immobile. He was immersed with longing, desperation, fear, pure and heavy and _living_.

Dean.

He needed Dean.

Shame had tears wetting his cheeks as he thought of himself: so useless, so weak, helpless, the damsel in distress to the knight in shining armor.

The prayers died off, the storm rolling away and thundering out over into the valley, and Castiel felt truly alone.

He struggled, and he fought, and he even tried breaking away at the rock his shackles were attached to, but they held his power within him. Not even his screams were of use to him, voice nearly human. His Grace was stuck inside, and where Enochian would ring out, creating destruction around him, there was nothing but his powerless cries.

Castiel hung his head, arms strung out and held by the shackles. They pulsed with energy, entrapping him to the mountain, and there he supposed he’d stay, a fallen angel on display to the sky.

_Cas, where are you, man? We need you._

They’d surely never find him.


End file.
